A member of the international white-separatist movement murdered 49 people in mass shootings at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, and live-streamed his evil deed on Facebook. Police in Christchurch have arrested three people in connection with the slaughter.
Like so many white nationalists, the killer was steeped in racist conspiracy theories, including one that accuses Jews of masterminding a silent “white genocide”—intentionally diluting whiteness out of western society by engineering the infiltration of immigrants, Muslims, and other minorities into white-majority countries, for the purpose of encouraging race-mixing.
Also, like so many white nationalists, the killer was fluent in the online idioms of the alt-right. His lengthy manifesto, thick with memes designed to provoke solidarity among fellow Internet racists, praised President Trump as "a symbol of renewed white identity and common purpose,” and a useful agent for bringing about a civil war in the United States that will result in a safe-haven nation for whites.
Trump, always incapable of empathy, issued the increasingly recognizable, tin-eared condolences he tends to tweet after incidents like these—offering the victims “warmest sympathy,” and “best wishes.” Previously, he wished the victims of neo-Nazi violence in Charlottesville, VA, “best regards.”
The massacre has revived long-simmering criticisms of large Internet technology companies, which create and host platforms where these racist communities fester, and then provide their murderous members the tools they need to make sure their names, words, and actions go viral.
But it should also provoke a long-overdue discussion about how to stem the spread of transnational, fascistic, white separatism, and the role that the American right and the president of the United States have played (and continue to play) in fanning it. Trump’s brittle grip on political power is based in part on his dishonest mantra that the United States is under siege by violent Muslims and Mexicans. His administration has taken affirmative steps to weaken our government’s already resource-starved efforts to police and root out white-nationalist violence. He is in many ways a weak president, but he is an exceptionally dangerous one, in large part because he emerged at a time when a message like his had intensifying allure on the right, and he’s never had any interest in expanding his appeal beyond that base. We need to recognize that getting him out of power through legitimate means as quickly as possible is urgently necessary, and whenever that happens we need to resist the temptation to believe the virus, of which Trump is merely a symptom, has been eradicated. It is multiplying.